


Day 11 - Historical (Christmas Truce - 1914)

by RinYumii



Series: KLance AU Month - February 2019 [11]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: KLance AU Month February 2019, M/M, Mostly Fluff, One prompt a day, World War I, opposite sides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 14:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17747315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinYumii/pseuds/RinYumii
Summary: Christmas Eve in the trenches. Lance writes a letter to his family giving them news of his well-being. At night, a carol is sung on the British side, and the Germans ask for an encore. Both sides agree to cease fire for forty-eight hours, and meet in no-man's-land, greeting each other for the first time and celebrating Christmas together.





	Day 11 - Historical (Christmas Truce - 1914)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! You lot are amazing. Over 500 Hits in less than 24 hours, you rock! Thank you so much for the reads! Just knowing my stories are read warms my heart, as I know my hard work is being appreciated.  
> For today's prompt, I initially wanted to write something with Samurai, but I would have needed to make so much research and then write my piece in such amount of time, so I finally decided to write about the Christmas Truce of WWI. It was just such a beautiful moment during such a sad time in History that I had to write something about it.  
> I hope you enjoy it ^^

The day was cold, and the fire kept whistling in Lance’s ears. Soldiers from their own trenches fired at each other, both sides trying to protect their part of land in this war that had started about five months ago. Lance felt like his hands were going to freeze over as he wrote a letter to his family in response to the one he had received in the morning. He told them he was well, a bit cold with his moth-eaten fingerless gloves, but in good health compared to some of his comrades. Out of them all, Lance might be the luckiest one. Some had pretty serious injuries on the head, shoulders and torso, but they were surviving as best they could in the cold. On Christmas Eve. Lance wrote them all sorts of other positive thought, so they wouldn’t worry too much. They were entirely right to worry, since he had gone off to fight in a war, but he wanted them to remember how brave he had been to leave in order to protect his country rather than him having cowering thoughts.

He wiped his nose with the back of his gloved hand and set his pen and journal to the side when Hunk brought him a mug of black coffee and a cracker. Lance thanked his friend and smiled at him as he sat next to him, eating quietly. So did Lance.

“I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve already, and we’re here, freezing in the cold,” Hunk said after a while, sipping on his own drink. “Seriously, the land’s actually frozen. Have you been up there today? It’s completely white.” Silence again. “Well, it would be if not for…”

“I know, buddy,” Lance interjected. “You don’t have to say it. At least, we haven’t lost anyone today. Speak of a Christmas miracle.” He had mumbled this last sentence into his mug. The dark liquid was getting cold already. Lance sighed, the small action causing steam to escape from his mouth and disappear in the winter air.

By the time night came, fire had ceased, and they were eating in a quiet chatter, having managed to make a fire despite the damp wood sticks they found, and smoking tobacco to keep warm. If Lance had disliked the taste of his first cigarette, he was now happily consuming one next to his fellow soldiers. Coran, their strategist, started humming a carol to try and lift their spirits. The humming grew louder as the smiles grew larger on the soldiers faces, remembering the lyrics and singing along, thinking of their families who were probably doing the same in the warmth of their homes. Lance smiled, too, and thought about his parents, his brothers and sister, his nephew and niece… He also prayed for his grandmother who had recently passed away, according to one of the many letters sent by his family. At least, she’ll finally be reunited with her husband who had died of disease when Lance was still only just a kid.

The tune quieted down, but the smiles were still there. A few men recorded the most recent events in their journals and wrote letters to their families as well. The mood was lighter now, and the coffee didn’t look as repulsive as it had earlier in the day. The song ligered in Lance’s heart as he resumed the verses, followed more vividly by his companions. Just for a few minutes, they could pretend they had beer in their mugs, a big feast awaiting them and presents under the Christmas tree. They held onto each other by the shoulders and rocked right and left as they sang loud and clear, tenor voices resonating in the silent land. They sang with all their heart, determined to enjoy their Christmas despite the war. They all laughed together once the song was over, and heard a sound coming from the other trench.

It was a German soldier, speaking over to them in English.

“Sing it again, Englander,” he said with his strong German accent. “Sing your song again.”

Startled at first, the British side fell silent. Rolo peeked through a hole with binoculars, but saw no German soldier outside their own trench. So, shyly, Coran picked up the song again, followed by Lance, Hunk, and then the rest of the British soldiers. But then, the German soldiers, who knew the song as well, sung along with them, and they quickly relaxed as they were now certain it wasn’t a ruse to attack them when they would expect it the least. They sung the song until the end, forgetting the cold and simply sharing a moment. Laughter and joy rose from both sides and they were really communicating for the first time. A few minutes then passed without anyone saying anything. That’s when Coran came up with probably the craziest idea in all of History.

“Erm… Let’s say that we both send one of our men about half way through our trenches to meet up in a friendly manner. We won’t fire if you agree to do the same.” For a moment, there was no sound to be heard. Lance could understand Coran’s motives, but ‘meeting up’ hadn’t been what Lance signed up to do with the enemy. If both sides put their mind to it however, it could really work, and they could share more moments together like the one they had just spent. “Is that okay with you?” Coran added when he heard no response.

“That’s alright,” a German soldier’s voice echoed. “We’ll send one man, and you’ll send one too. No shooting.”

Then the land fell silent again. The British soldiers all looked at each other, silently urging one to leave the trench and meet with one German soldier in between the trenches. Rolo peeked again and quickly turned to the rest of them.

“There’s one of them coming towards us!” Lance looked as well, and saw a young soldier walking out, then stopping about halfway through the two trenches, just like Coran had suggested they did. He looked unarmed. And cold.

Lance breathed in and out, and climbed the ladder, dropping his own weapon next to Hunk who looked at him with bewilderment, eyes as big as saucers. “Lance, wait-” But Lance wasn’t waiting. He got out of the trench and walked towards the German soldier standing there, shivering in the night. Their eyes met, and Lance walked a tiny bit faster. He could hear his comrades climbing the ladder behind him too, but they didn’t interfere. Lance reached the middle of the field where the man waited patiently. They stood in front of each other, just staring, saying nothing. The other was young, about Lance’s age, and was a little bit taller than him. The German soldier took his hand out of his pocket and held it out in front of Lance, who took it in his own without thinking, squeezing it in a firm handshake. They smiled at each other, sealing a silent truce between the two sides for the next forty-eight hours.

One after the other, men from each sides got out of the trenches to greet each other in no-man’s-land. The soldier Lance had greeted bended over and retrieved a packet of cigarettes Lance had dropped while shaking his hand.

“Thanks,” Lance said, smiling gently at the other man. “My name is Lance.”

“Mein name ist Keith,” the other replied.

“Nice to meet you, Keith.” Lance took a cigarette out and handed it to Keith, who accepted the small present with a curt nod, and searched his own pockets for a cigarette of his own to give Lance. Around them, laughter started emerging as conversations sparked, both English and German learning to know each other. Lance’s hand trembled when he put the cigarette in his mouth and attempted to light it up. Keith held his own lighter and helped Lance in his task. For the second time this night, Lance smiled at the German man. Keith lit up the cigarette Lance had given him, and they each consumed their own peacefully. If only this moment could stretch into forever. If only the fight was really over for good. If only they didn’t have to go back to fighting each other by the end of Christmas. But both were soldiers fighting for the sake of their own country, and they would have to fulfill their duty in this war.

During the whole night, soldiers from opposite sides sided together and sung and drank and danced together, putting their differences aside. Tonight, and the next day and a half, they were just men, having a good, peaceful time. They quickly overcame the language barrier, settling for English since everyone spoke it more or less well. A few Germans taught their native tongue to some curious Englishmen, who learnt how to say “Weihnachten” properly, which simply meant “Christmas.” They each told stories of their home and families, sharing the feeling of being apart from their beloved ones while still holding them in their heart.

Lance showed Keith a picture of his family, naming each member one by one, more to have a topic to talk about and as a sense of introduction than for Keith to remember each and every one of Lance’s family member. After Lance was done with his picture, Keith pointed at a German man talking with Coran a few feet away and said: “Bruder.” The word was similar to English’s “Brother,” so Lance understood what Keith meant.

“So that’s your brother? Your parents must be quite sad that you both left your home to fight this war…”

Keith shook his head. “Shiro is bruder in my heart,” he said, and Lance nodded. “Both orphans,” he then added.

“Oh, I’m sorry… Here I was, ranting about my family…” Lance felt like a cretin. He should have asked about Keith first instead of rubbing salt in the wound. But Keith shook his head once more and smiled.

“Don’t feel sorry. Your family looks nice.” Lance smiled back.

**...**

The next day, enough men agreed to play football together. A soldier happened to have a ball with him, and now was the perfect occasion to use it. While some played happily, both teams mixing German and English men together so they wouldn’t have to fight on yet another subject, soldiers were getting patched up, and prisoners were exchanged, everyone being able to spend a happy Christmas together. Lance and Keith exchanged some of the buttons from their vests, as a present to each other. Rolo was giving a haircut to a German man who was obediently kneeling in front of him, letting the Englishman giving him an undercut, which was a big change given the previously long hair kept in a ponytail.

Lance and Keith just talked, standing away from the other groups slightly. Lance got to know that Keith had actually never met his mum, and lost his father in a fire while he was trying to save lives from a burning house, having been a fireman. He had died a hero, and Keith was very proud of him.

“I’m sure he would have been proud of you too for engaging yourself in the army for the sake of your country,” Lance told him. Keith’s eyes were big, and at this moment, they reflected an emotion Lance couldn’t quite pinpoint. Hope, maybe? Yeah, that sounded good. They all really needed hope. Hope that, after the cease-fire, they would stay alive in this hell. Hope that they would live through to meet with their family again. And maybe, just maybe, Keith was hoping that they would still be able to be friends and talk like this, despite having killed so many of their friends. Lance sighed and raised a hand to brush Keith’s hair off from his face, tucking a strand behind a cold ear. He took his own hat off his head and placed it on top of Keith’s, making sure his ears were covered and protected from the cold.

“Thank you,” Keith said, and Lance didn’t know if the appreciation came from what he had said to him or done, but he accepted it anyway with yet another smile and a pat on the shoulder. Keith’s cheeks were flushed, but Lance blamed the cold for that.

“Don’t worry, man,” Lance replied, rubbing his hands together to prevent the cold from freezing his fingers, still very exposed due to the torn gloves. Keith noticed the desperate gesture and took Lance’s hands in his own, bringing them close to his mouth and proceeding to gently breathe out warm air on them. Lance felt his cheeks ignite, but his hands unfortunately didn’t get any warmer. When Keith realized his action was useless, he removed his own gloves, removed Lance’s from his hands, and swapped the two pairs. He delicately slipped his gloves onto Lance’s hands, and wore Lance’s on his own hands instead. “Wait! Keith, no,” Lance started, but Keith cut him, seemingly reading his thoughts.

“Don’t worry about tomorrow,” he said. “Just focus on now.”

Lance nodded, the motion causing his fringe to fall upon his eyes, and he hoped it would hide his welling-up tears. It didn’t. Keith placed both his hands - now wrapped into Lance’s worn-out gloves, and Lance could feel Keith’s cold fingertips against his skin - at either side of Lance’s face, and forced their eyes to meet. Lance sniffed, and he really wanted to blame the cold again. He placed his hands on top of Keith’s providing them with a bit of warmth. Keith’s eyes were shining with that same emotion - _hope_ \- but also something else. Not sadness though. He leaned into Lance and placed a quick kiss on his lips before dropping his hands to his side and walking towards the group that was still playing football. Lance felt colder than ever without Keith’s touch.

He quickly dried the tears that had managed to escape from his eyes with his gloves - Keith’s gloves - and ran up to the football players as well, determined to make the most of this fragile peace shared with the Germans. Lance tried to be as cheerful as possible, showing the best of himself during Christmas day. He and Keith were put in different teams for the next game of football, but both gave their all to make their team win. Lance was used to playing football with his older brothers, and with his nephew, too, and he really enjoyed his time. Keith wasn’t too bad either, playing against him was a real challenge.

The night fell too quickly on the no-man’s-land, and soon the Germans and English went their separate ways. This was the hardest goodbye on Lance. It was even harder than when he left his family.

“Merry Christmas, Keith,” Lance said, voice quivering, but forcing his eyes to remain dry.

“Frohe Weihnachten, Lance,” Keith replied.

This time, it was Lance who kissed Keith first, his heart beating fast in his chest, but squeezing so hard at the same time. It really hurt. They broke the kiss, the sensation lingering a little longer on their lips as they kept their gazes locked and pressed their foreheads together. Coran called for Lance behind him, and Lance heard Shiro call for Keith as well. They reluctantly parted ways, turning their backs to each other and walking towards their trenches.

The next day, Lance was awakened by the sound of firing rifles, and the smell of an overheated coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, forgive the occasional grammar error you find, or point them out to me so I can fix them.  
> I'll see you tomorrow for Day 12 - Role Reversal.


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